“Wild luck, cynical suspicion, deep fraternal love and dodgy Scottish accents: in the true life story of a musical group named Garbage, all these things play a part. Right now, however, as the bands ticks through the hours preceding their sold-out gig in New York’s vast Roseland ballroom, the over-riding theme is tiredness. Not just ordinary, mortal, hit-the-pillow-and-shake-some-zzzs tiredness nut the sore-bones, mushy-brained, couldn’t-sleep-if-I-had-time-to variety; true exhaustion, the kind that kills you.”
About their day off from touring:
“What is planned is a whirlwind of shopping, followed in the evening by a visit to a members-only sado-masochistic sex club courtesy of a friend who is, shall we say, a ‘well-disciplined’ A&R executive. ‘He’s totally into the dungeon thing, and we said ‘Oh, you have to take us,’ Shirley explains. ‘We’ve never been anywhere like that.’ A smile peeks out as she sips her coffee. ‘I’m a little apprehensive in case I get thrown against a wall and whipped before I can say anything,” she cringes. ‘Or if someone starts peeing on my leg.’
The question floats around the room for a while, but eventually has to be asked. Shirley: S or M?
‘Both, of course,’ she squeals. ‘S and M – Shirley M.anson.'”
About Butch Vig, Steve Marker, and Duke Erikson getting in touch:
“Shirley remembers the magical phone call: ‘I was doing the dishes or something at home. They just asked me if I’d be interested in singing a track or two with them.’ Though she had records he’d produced – Dirty, Siamese Dream, Nevermind – she didn’t make the connection with the towering studio reputation of Butch Vig. ‘I knew his work, I just didn’t know his name. I don’t go around memorising the small prints on records. I phoned up my record company. I said, ‘Have you heard of this American producer called Butch Vig?’ There was this huge pause. ‘Yes, why?’ ‘Because he’s interested in working with me.’ They said, ‘He’s only the most influential alternative rock producer in America today,’ and I went ‘Ah!'”
About Shirley’s fairy tale:
“Shirley’s Scottish purr rises in pitch a little, as she surveys the ridiculous extent of her good fortune. ‘I used to read stories about people in bands or movie actresses or models; people who has fallen into lucky, fantastic jobs. And it would piss me off because I’d think that doesn’t happen, things like that do not happen. And now I realise something like that happened to me.'”
About how exhausting touring is:
“Shirley just ploughs through the exhaustion because it’s not her real life. ‘I still consider myself living in Edinburgh and I’m just on hire at the moment,’ she says, describing Garbage as a kind of holiday where you’re sufficiently removed from your everyday surroundings to feel licensed to do the unusual. ‘America’s definitely like the fantasy life,’ she beams. ‘When we played in the UK I was so stressed. Suddenly it was like your fantasy life merging with your real life. I was so relieved to get back to America. I was just sort of ‘Oh, we can have a riot again. Wheee, we can have a party.'”
Excerpts from The Supernova Issue, No. 153, June 1996
Credits
Photography Ellen von Unwerth
Styling Patti Wilson
[The Supernova Issue, No. 153, June 1996]